


Affirmation

by elisedeserre



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Reader inserts, Slow Burn, Smut later maybe?, i hope this works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2020-12-20 20:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisedeserre/pseuds/elisedeserre
Summary: A series of reader-insert drabbles between you and Arthur. Loosely based off of the DC Universe and follows the Joker 2019 plot





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I’m new to this site and fanfic writing in general so feel free to leave any comments/suggestions for future chapters/works! I’m also trying to loosely base this off if the DC universe, so sorry fo any continuation errors, etc. Thank you, and here goes nothing! :o)

_“If you’re able to finish your studies at Gotham University and do some work in the public field, you’d practically be able to get any profession in the country. Gotham is tough, and bechase of that it’s a respected job experience.”_

You can almost still hear your advisor telling you that in your college’s university, which was just a train ride from Gotham itself.

The only difference was, it’s been five years and you still find yourself with no diploma and no secure job; yet you can’t get yourself to leave, just yet. You were sitting on the corner of your bed, looking outside the window and listening to the shoddy television in the corner of your room.

No matter how hard you tried to lighten up your living space, its almost as if the sordidness of the city still found its way through.

Deciding better than to stay in your dim apartment all day, you grab your coat and start making your way to the Library, which is where you spent most of your time, if not all, working and reading. It was one of the only sanctuaries in the city that reminded you of the big libraries in Manhattan.

Waiting patiently for the elevator, you check your time before it _dings_ on your floor.

Without looking up, you try to step into the elevator, not noticing the stranger in front of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry,”

The stranger nods at you and quickly moves to the side, putting his hand quickly over his mouth to muffle the noise.

You stand in the elevator in awe, watching the thin man shakily unlock his apartment, and disappear within.

—-

_‘You should have said i’m sorry too, now she’s gonna think you’re a jerk like everyone else.’_

He felt the blood run into his ears when he shut the door behind him. The subtly old stench of the apartment engulfed him, and calmed his racing heart. Must he always get like this when he makes contact with someone? 

Arthur sat on the old sofa, lighting a cigarette and putting his feet up on the coffee table.

His body still ached from the beating he received in the alley earlier, but he welcomed it. It was a reminder that despite everything, he could still feel.

He let his head fall back on the couch, his hair hanging back while he drew a puff from his cigarette.

How come he had never seen you before? You surely weren’t new around here; the way you carried yourself showed that.

Yet for some reason, he was utterly enthralled by you. 

The way your hair framed your face, the warm colors you wore in contrast to the city, and those eyes that have a glimpse of innocence.

_ “We need more people like her.”_

He could begin to feel an obsession growing in the pit of his stomach, and he grabbed both sides of his hair tightly with his hands.

_“You’re just imagining her, Arthur. It’s the meds. And the pain. And everything else.”_

He took another drag of his cigarette and went to the window. He looked down at the dirty streets - no amount of sunshine could ever make them look welcoming.

As he traced the outlines of the sidewalks with his fingers, he noticed a familiar form quickly walking down the sidewalk.

It was you, and as soon as he realized you weren’t a hallucination, he almost choked on his laughter. He watched as your hair swayed with every step, and the radiance your being disbursed.

He took another drag and tilted his head back, allowing a smile to form on his face. He needed to meet you, needed to speak to you and confirm you weren’t some made up hallucination.

The only issue was, how would he approach you?

You were a stark contrast to his being and it intimidated him, almost making him laugh again.

Little did you know, he would spend all hours of the night rehearsing the confrontation with you that would occur in a few days. 


	2. Can't Deny My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to continue writing! This chapter has been on my mind all day. I hope I do Arthur justice. I plan to dive deeper into him more as the story goes on. I also wanted to mention the songs that I listen to for inspo as I write these chapters. This one is inspired by Brandon Flowers' Can't Deny My Love. Enjoy!

The quiet reading room of Gotham Library offered Arthur no solace when it came to writing down some new jokes. He sat a few tables down from you, nose hidden in a book of old jokes while he jotted down some new one-liners that he could eventually use for his stand-up routine.

The book offered little to no cover however, as he kept peeking at you seated a few tables down. You looked so peaceful, writing on an old legal pad with a stack of books next to you. The image of you burned in his mind every time he tried to focus.

_I used up all my sick days, so I called in dead._

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that one; but realizing he just recently lost his job and was responsible for three deaths, he felt himself overcome with sorrow and anxiety, and eventually that _terrible_ laughter.

When he couldn’t stop the laughing, he put his head down quickly on the table, covering himself with the book. He didn’t want to blow his cover just yet, even though he was sure you and everyone else in the library heard his outburst.

Having finally calmed down, he allowed to himself to sit up-right. He awkwardly ran his hand through his hair trying to act like nothing happened. As he looked around, he noticed you were no longer at the table a few rows down.

He sat up with a panic, and looked around anxiously. The second he saw you heading towards the shelves filled with books, he clumsily got up from his seat, nearly knocking down the wooden chair.

Tucking his old notebook into his jacket, he walked briskly to the row of books in front of the one you were headed to. He hoped you would need to browse in that aisle too.

He watched you through the dingy books, your long hair swaying as you searched the shelves. You looked serene, oblivious to the fact that he had been watching you for hours. Then again, no one really ever noticed him anyways.

As he saw you begin to shuffle through the books in the row in front of him, he tried to look busy, looking for an imaginary book only he knew of.

Part of him wished you would approach the section he was in. The other part of him hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t want to screw up the perfect image he had of you. What if you were just like everyone else?

But as fate would have it, you ended up jumping over to his row. He watched out of the corner of his eye as you gleamed over the books, running your fingers on their spines.

Seeing you draw nearer to where he was standing, he reached for the first book he saw - but instead of meeting the rough canvas, he met your gentle touch.

You pulled your hand back delicately, and he stuck his hands back into his jacket pockets.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You said with a slight chuckle

“It’s no problem” he shrugged, with his hands still in his pocket “I read it a while ago anyways. It's a good book.”

_'Liar.' _He heard himself criticize. '_If you really read, your spelling wouldn’t be as bad as it is now.'_

He tried to play it off as if it was no big deal.

“Oh really? I think its a very fitting book for everything that’s going on now and all. I’m surprised its not banned.“

He felt himself wondering off as he looked at the title of the book. _Civil Movements in Gotham History_

It wasn’t until he stopped disassociating that he realized how close you were to him. He could smell your flowery perfume. When he turned to face you, his eyes met with yours. He felt the laugh boiling in his chest out of nervousness.

Arthur saw as your face lit up. His eyes widened hopefully.

“I know where I know you from!” You pointed. “Don’t we live on the same floor?”

He nodded as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Y-yeah. The building with that crappy elevator.”

You chuckled at his joke. He felt his heart rate accelerate. It was the most genuine giggle he had received in a while. He felt his body grow warm.

“I’m Arthur, by the way.”

“I’m (y/n).”

You grabbing his hand to shake it was unexpected, and caught him completely off guard. Before he knew it, he was shaking yours back. Your hands felt as soft and delicate as they looked. He smiled at how contrasting they looked in his.

He saw you smile back. A warm smile. He felt himself talking, but it was almost as if his mouth had a mind of it’s own. He was halfway through the sentence before he realized what he was saying.

“Would you like to go grab some coffee at the diner across the street?”

He felt his body begin to grow cold with the realization of what he was uttering. He felt himself blank out for a second.

_“Why would I want to go out with a loner like you?” _

He watched as your facial expression changed. He began trying to muffle the agonizing laugh.

“Sure”

_'Wait, what?'_

“Wait, what?”

“Sure, I'd love to grab some coffee with you. Let me go check out this book. Maybe we can discuss it over at the diner?”

“Oh, yeah, sounds great!”

His voice sounded a lot more confident than he felt.

“I’ll be right back.”

Watching as you turned around and smiled, he rubbed his palms on his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He took out a cigarette and lit it quickly, taking in a puff of smoke. He checked the time. 30 minutes passed.

“_Okay,” _he thought “_this isn’t a hallucination.”_

He walked over to where you were at the library counter, looking around with a confident smile on his lips. This time, he walked with an extra pep in his step.


	3. Somebody to Die For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter ruined me. Inspired by Hurts' song, "Somebody to Die For".

Arthur zipped up his jacket as soon as the two of you stepped out of the library. He stepped to the side, pulling out a cigarette and offering you one.

“Oh, no thank you.” You smiled

“Here, let me take that for you.” he grabbed your tote with books and slung it over his shoulder.

You smiled and watched him as the two of you began walking. He was a character alright, but there was something you admired about him. Maybe it was the way how he was so amiable to you, despite not knowing you. Or maybe it was just his gentle yet sad eyes. All you knew was that he was genuine, and that was something besides his physical form that you were attracted to.

“You know,” you said, squatting one eye to try to block out the bright afternoon sun as you faced him, “I’ve never smoked before. Not that I can’t, I’ve just never tried it.”

“Oh really?” He said, smiling with the cigarette hanging from his mouth “Did you want to try?” He watched your expression.

The sun shone on your face, illuminating your eyes, giving you a soft glow. _God_, you were something else. Almost an oxymoron walking in the streets of Gotham.

“Sure.” You huff out confidently, taking a step back to not block the sidewalk.

As Arthur is looking down to take out his box, you feel your heart racing. Almost swiftly, you take the cigarette out of his mouth. He chuckles at you as you put it between your fingers.

“What are you doing?” He says enthusiastically, showing a genuine smile.

You fix your hair out of your face, putting the cigarette up to your lips. You take a deep breath, not breaking eye-contact with him. He stares in curiosity, slightly turned on. Your naiveté shines through quickly however, as you burst out in a fit of cough. Arthur lets out a loud laugh as you hand him back the cigarette.

“I don’t know how you can do that.” You hand it back, admitting defeat.

“Cmon,” he pats your back “lets go get you some coffee.”

* * *

After what seems like hours of talking, you and Arthur are standing outside of the diner, the neon lights illuminating both of your faces in the cold night. Arthur is just watching you as you speak. He’s had a small smile on his face the whole time. Your laughter and voice engulf him; he is attracted to you in every way imaginable.

Almost suddenly, he realizes he hasn’t had an outburst of laughter. That makes him even more nervous. He runs his hands through his hair.

“You have never read that book before, have you?”

“What?”

“I mean, you said you read it a while ago. It came out just a few months ago.” You smiled a coy smile.

“Oh- I mean, I-“

He felt the laughter begin to bubble in his chest. He clenched his teeth hard in a way to stifle it.

“I’m just messing with you. It’s a fairly old book. If you did read it though, I would like to see what you have to say about it.”

“Yeah,” he offered you a toothy smile as he shuffled where he was standing. “Do you want to go back to my apartment? It’s freezing out here.”

He legitimately had no ill-intentions; it was freezing and he was regretting being dressed so lightly. Plus, it would be nice to have someone in the apartment. His mother would be asleep anyhow.

“Sure, it's getting too late to be outside in Gotham.”

You weren’t sure what was going on in your head. You barely knew him, yet you felt safe with him. You trusted him even. There was something about him that you couldn’t get out of your head. You were beginning to get as equally obsessed with him as he was with you. Be it a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

* * *

As you entered his apartment, you looked around. It didn’t look too different than yours.

“Here,” he took your jacket off of your shoulders “I’ll take that.”

He hung it up next to his. You could smell the soft remnants of his cologne as he passed in front of you. He opened the bedroom door, checked inside it quickly, and closed it silently.

“You can sit anywhere you’d like. Do you want some water or something?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

He brushes his hands through his hair as you sit on his couch. He takes his place next to you after turning on the television. He looks at you, smiling. You’re easily distracted by the Murray Franklin show playing on the old TV set.

He lets his head bob on the backside of the couch, trying to relax. Arthur closes his eyes in bliss, hearing you laugh at Murray’s corny jokes. For a second, he’s calm. Then in a flash, he remembers all the bad. The three men. His job. The beating he took the other day in the alley. The bruises on his back. All at once, his mind reminds him of everything. He begins laughing, his body thrashing with every hiccup. He shakes his head, trying to stop it. He covers his mouth with his hand, and bites down, hard. He can’t stop it. His eyes begin to water.

“Arthur? Arthur, are you okay?”

His loud laughing makes you jump from your distraction. You put an arm on his shoulder - only then can you feel how much he’s shaking. You stare at him with wide eyes.

“Y-eah” he coughs violently in between the laughs.

The fit goes on for a few more seconds, and then it's reduced to coughing. He’s able to calm down when he sees your concerned expression. Your hand doesn’t leave his shoulder.

“I-I have this condition” he looks up at you disappointed “I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to laugh. But it takes over me. I don’t mean it-“

“Hey, it's okay.” You cross your legs to sit sideways. You rest your elbow on the pillows of the couch. You still see the pain in his eyes.

“It’s a neurological condition. Out of all the things I can possibly have, I have this stupid laugh. I hate it.” He watches you as your expression grows with sorrow.

Unexpectedly, you reach out and give him a hug. You realize just how thin he is. It takes him a second to realize you’re hugging him. He hadn’t been hugged, well, since forever. Only his mother would hug him, but she was too fragile now. He wrapped his arms around you, tightly. His eyes begin to water as his head rests on the crook of your neck. He hugs you even tighter as you rest your hand on his head.

“It’s okay, Arthur. I’m here. I’ll help you anyway I can.”

He begins laughing gently again, this time accompanied by some sniffles. The laughing isn't out of pain or sadness, but out of gratitude and the overwhelming emotion you caused.

He pulls away from you, but you two are still close enough that he could see the furrow in your brow. He cups your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone. You lean into his touch.

Almost instantly, you see the sorrow in his eyes change to a glimmer of hope. His expression returns back into a childlike innocence. You see his eyes wander around your face. Your eyes, your cheeks, your entire manifestation.

He forgets all that is wrong with the world. For a second, he feels his being be rid of all morbidity that Gotham had tainted him with. He puts his other hand on the opposite side of your face, cupping your face. He leans in, but looks at you through hooded eyes before continuing, looking for approval.

You shut your eyes, and your lips meet his.

He tastes like coffee and cigarettes.

To him, you taste like sweetness.

He deepens the kiss, but keeps the gentleness as both mouths dance, melting into each other.

Outside the apartment, sirens are blaring. Gotham’s monster is waking, but all the two of you could think about is each other, and the lust behind the kisses. One the two of you hadn’t felt in a while.

For the first time in perhaps ever, Arthur feels invincible, and _happy_.


	4. Every Other Freckle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired but Alt-J’s song, “Every Other Freckle”. I find their music to be so fitting for Arthur and this movie as a whole. Enjoy!

Arthur looked at you as he pulled away, hand still grazing your cheek. You smile, and he smiles back; but the smile quickly fades as he’s realized what he’s done. He pulls away and sits upright in the couch, lighting a cigarette. 

“Are you okay? I mean, are you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean-“ you noticed his leg began to shake. 

“No, no Arthur,” you smiled at him “It’s okay. I liked it.” 

“I liked it too.” he shook his head, in a matter-of-fact type gesture. 

You couldn’t help but smile again, and this time his entire face gleamed with happiness. He turned to watch the TV as he kept smoking. 

You remembered all that he told you at the diner. 

He lost his job.

His mother was in constant need of his care - but he didn’t mind. 

He has his days, he’s sad sometimes but other days he’s okay; “Just like everyone else in Gotham”, he said. 

He was trying to do stand up. He’s got a real thing going, he told you. By the way he was making you laugh and cracking jokes all afternoon, you believed it. 

Then as you sat there watching him, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of sorrow for him. 

He seemed like such a good man, a good man who the world - more specifically Gotham - decided to crap on.

The other half of you however saw him as he appeared, Innocent, craving affection, still holding on to the hope the world would change. You guessed in a way, you were right there with him. 

You watched him. His features. the way he acted. His demeanor. He was  handsome.  More specifically,  _alluring_. 

You felt like you knew him, and you didn’t mind the previous days he spend observing you.

If he was going to hurt you, he would’ve by now. If following you around the worst Arthur had in store, you could handle it. Lord knows a lot more goes down in Gotham.

On the other hand, Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about what happened.

Could it have been the burst of confidence the previous night offered with the incident on the subway? Was his boost of confidence just a sign he was getting better? Whatever the case was, he was glad it wasn’t a day dream.

No, you were real. You were real, and he wanted to explore every inch of you; know the way your mind and body works, inside and out. He wanted to remember the way your voice sounded so he could always hear it echoing in his head.

Knowing you felt the same way as him helped him finally feel like he had a grasp on reality. He almost _nearly_ forgot about those Wall Street guys. But they were never fully gone, given the extensive reminders via TV, newspapers, and street talk.

You broke the silent musing going on between you two.

“I should get going,” you stood up and fixed your shirt “I have work early tomorrow unfortunately.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course. I can walk you out.” 

He guided you to the entrance. It was only then you realized how neat and clean his apartment was; even though nothing in the apartment was new, it was indeed well kept. You couldn’t help but glimpse at the group of pills in the kitchen. You figured a majority of them were for his mother. 

Arthur grabbed your coat and put it over your shoulders. You gave him a small “Thank you” smile, as you exited to the hallway. 

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks,” he ran his hands through his hair “for... for tonight.” 

“I look forward to many others like it.” 

  
You smiled, and with that you disappeared into the hall, unlocking your apartment.

* * *

Arthur stepped out to the fire escape. He needed to feel something more after tonight. Confirmation everything wasn’t just his imagination. 

It seems like after the subway killings, things are starting to make more sense. Things are looking up. 

The cool air met his skin quickly. The cardigan and button down he was wearing offered no warmth; but he didn’t mind. He needed to feel every inch of his body. 

He lit another cigarette as he opened his joke book. Clippings from porno magazines greeted him. He chuckled. He turned to a new page. The ink from previous pages had stained through, leaving incoherent marks all over the page. He just kept writing. 

When he couldn’t find inspiration, he closed his eyes and puffed his cigarette violently. 

He heard sirens in the distance. The regular shuffling of the city. A honk here and there. The ominous white noise thay would forever plague the city. If he would listen closely, he could hear a news broadcast. 

_ As the city mourns the loss of three rising Wall Street boys, questions of what’s next for the clown rebellion arise...  _

“ Boys, yeah,” he whispered under his breath “but assholes first and foremost.” 

He admits to himself he never meant to kill them as a way to start a movement. He was just protecting himself. Isn’t that why Randall gave him the gun anyways? 

But maybe that last shot on the stairs, maybe to him it meant something else. Maybe Arthur hoped it would mean change. Or at least  something. 

To say he felt no guilt was pretty accurate. He felt nothing about what he did. If it would’ve been him that was beaten to death, no one would bat an eye. If his actions were so bad as they made it seem, then why was the universe blessing him with you? 

_ You, You, You. _

Thinking of you, your warmth, the way your lips tasted on his, causes his leg to shake. He puffed up and leaned back on the railing of the stairs. He let his mind wander. It had been such a long time since he’s done anything with a woman. Much less a woman like you. 

He looked up at the starless sky. The buildings enclosing him. The smoke from his cigarette dissipating into the night air. It wasn’t until he leaned back a bit more that he noticed he could see one of your apartment windows. 

He straightened up quickly, and looked around to make sure no one saw him peeking. 

Your windows didn’t offer much to glimpse at because of your curtains, but he was able to see your silhouette as you moved about. He was able to see as you cleaned up. Brushed your hair. He imagined the way your hair smelled 

He stayed out there for hours. Watching the city and it’s sounds. He wrote down endless jokes that were sure to be a hit. He practiced the way he would approach you.

He realized he hadn’t felt the biting winds all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apologize for any movie continuation errors! I’ve only seen the film twice so I’m relying heavily on memory and the original Joker script as far as timing goes. I also want to thank everyone for the support! Your comments make my day. Any pointers/suggestions/requests are welcomed!


	5. Drinking Lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off of AWOLNATION’s song “Drinking Lightning”

You woke up unusually early the next morning; you couldn’t tell if you were giddy from the night before, or just flat out anxious. 

You tried to decipher what happened last night as you got ready for work. Last night was  weird . Maybe if you didn’t live in Gotham, you’d be worried about Arthur. But at this point, you were so accustomed to the oddity of the city, and you almost  welcomed  it. 

He was strange for sure, but then again, so is everyone in Gotham - the city pulls it out of even the mentally strongest. 

You remembered the look in his eyes. A concoction of hope, sadness, lust. You could’ve sworn deep down you saw something primitive. 

You were adjusting your outfit in the mirror when you heard a door close in the hallway. You tried not to think too much into it and continued inspecting yourself. The outfit the library made you wear was ridiculously nostalgic: a loose button down, a pencil skirt, and low heels. You couldn’t help admire how professional you looked. But it didn’t matter. Gotham would make sure of that. 

Grabbing your coat, you looked around your apartment as you turned off the lights, trying to push Arthur out of  your mind. 

He stood on the opposite side of your door, hesitating how to ask you to his comedy club. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he pushed it back nervously. He straightened up his posture. He felt confident. 

Your door swung open, offering him a glimpse into your apartment. You stood holding the door for a second. Your heart raced; your stomach was full of dark butterflies. 

“Hey, Arthur.”

  
You couldn’t help noticing he stood a bit taller than you, even with heels on. He seemed more put together. He had a gentle expression on his face, but his eyes were full of hunger. 

“Hey,” he shuffled in his spot and cleared his throat, stifling the early cues of an outburst “I was wondering. I have this thing tonight, at Pogo’s. It’s a standup show - my stand up routine. Would you like to come and grab dinner after?” 

You inspected him quietly. Something abkut him was different. He was at ease. You felt a sense of peace. The type of quiet you feel in the eye of a hurricane. He was very sure of himself. 

“Sure, Arthur. What time?” 

“7:30.” 

“I’ll meet you there.” 

“Great.” He offered you a genuine smile. 

He nodded to his apartment; you heard the faint sound of a TV through his door. 

“I should get back to taking care of my mom. But I’ll see you then.” 

“See you then.” 

You smiled and watched him as he trotted down the hallway. He hung his head low enough for his hair to fall to his face. His stride was clumsy yet assertive. 

You made your way to work. Newspapers of the killer clown were still all over the city.

* * *

It wasn’t until you arrived at Pogo’s that you realize what an actual dump it was, but you were happy just to see Arthur, and you hoped to make his night.

You tried hard to follow the acts before him, but most of them were brutal and undefined. You knew he was watching. You got the same feeling you did the first time he was following you. 

Arthur stood on the side of the stage, looking for you in the crowd. The table lights ordered no help, but soon he saw your figure. 

You were still in your work clothes. He watched as you laughted and your eyes glimmered with the dim light. He wanted your laughter to himself; to have it enshroud him. Yours was the only laugh he wanted. He fake laughed to go along with the rest of the crowd. 

Everything happened so fast. He was announced on stage. Had an outburst. Tried to tell a joke. Had another outburst. The audience laughed. You laughed as he winked at you. The stage lights shone on his face. He revived a hesitant ovation as he concluded his act with a power stance. 

Arthur’s smile was gleaming. There was more confidence in this man right at this moment than any other man in the world. 

You smiled at him admiringly an clapped along with the crowd. 

* * *

When Arthur’s act was done the two of you watched one more performance before heading to the diner. 

“So? What’d you think?” he glided his hand on your shoulder as he took a seat next to you. 

“It was...great! Very different but funny.” 

“I was worried a lot of people wouldn’t like it. It can be dark sometimes.” 

“People just need to learn to see the humor in it is all.” 

Arthur placed his hand on your wrist. 

“Why don’t we go get something to eat?” 

“I would like that.”

The man before you was nothing like the one you say in front of the other night. It was almost like a switch; Arthur was no longer vulnerable, awkward, or shy. 

He felt it too.He inwardly felt an improvement. Even though his social worker told him this morning they were closing office, he felt fine. He wasn’t worried about his meds anymore or his sporadic behavior. As long as he was riding this cloud, being with you and getting recognition for his comedy, he was fine. 

Everything was going great. It was almost like a spell. Despite everything that has happened to him the past few days, things were looking up. And he had you by his side. 

He felt a high, one like never before. He wanted to do so much now that he felt this confidence and inspiration inside of him. He felt like he could do anything now; no laugh, no holding back, no  _ consequences _ . 

* * *

As the two of you walked side by side to the diner, a sudden sprinkle began. You made a face and looked up into the night sky as a raindrop hit your face. Arthur watched you and looked up too. Within a matter of seconds, a downpour began. 

“ oh!”  you exclaimed. 

Arthur started cracking up. He grabbed you by your coat and started running. His red overcoat was becoming burgundy with the rain. You felt the cold water splash on your feet. 

The both of you ran and laughed until he pulled you aside to a newspaper kiosk. 

He began talking to the clerk as you looked at the headlines. 

“One pack of camels please.” He was taking out some spare change from his red vest. 

You looked around at the ridiculous headlines and sketches of the subway murderer. 

“That stuffs just getting ridiculous now.” 

Arthur turned to look at you as he was gathering his cigarettes. He took one out and lit it, blowing smoke into the rain. 

“What is?” He asked hesitantly. 

“The way they’re making this guy seem,” you nodded at the awful sketches of the clown “it’s like they’re almost asking people to join him when they print stuff like that. I honestly don’t see whah the big deal is. If it was three normal people from Gotham who got killed, Wayne wouldn’t give a damn.” 

Arthur couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All along he thought youd be against what he did - well obviously you didn’t know it was him, but still. He felt his heart race. 

“I guess that guy didn’t do all bad then.” 

“I honestly don’t think so. He’s a martyr now. He’s showing jusr how messed up this place actually is. He did what everyone has been wanting to do for a while. You gotta admire that ‘fuck you’ attitude.”

He watched you as he smiled. He had someone who understood. He felt another weight lift off of his shoulders. 

“Come on,” he grabbed your arm as he put out for cigarette. 

“Where? It’s raining.” 

“Come here,” he grabbed both your hands, and lead you all of a sudden into the freezing rain. 

“Arthur,  no!”  You began laughing as the cold water penetrated to your skin. 

Within seconds, you and Arthur were soaked. He pulled you into the middle of the street, grabbing your waist with one arm and grabbing your hand with his other. 

He pulled you close and started doing a joyful waltz. You laughed as you tripped over your feet, feeling the cold water rush into your heels. 

His shirt and jacket were know clinging onto his skin. His hair was a mess with every movement, no matter how much he tried to push it back. The water kept pouring down. 

You leaned your head back laughing as the two of you danced around. Arthur watched as streams of water ran from your hair down your neck, and into your chest. 

To him, this was much more. This was his  _ liberation _ . 

He stopped dancing for a second and you kept on, trying to get him to continue. He froze, watching you. 

When you came closer, he grabbed you by your waist and snaked his hand under your coat, trying to feel where your warm skin met the cool water. His free hand cupped your face, and without hesitation, he put his lips on yours. 

This time, he took the lead. You stopped moving around as led your lips. You grabbed his wrist to pull yourself in closer. 

His fingers traced your warm skin - you felt shivers down your spine. 

He deepened the kiss, as the rain continued to fall. The streetlights of Gotham illuminated the puddles around you. 

It was then that you felt him _consuming_ you, and your feelings of wanting were felt more than ever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to this one! Mid terms have been kicking my butt. I hope you guys liked!


	6. Movement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter is inspired by Hozier's Movement. Ill be honest, I've been struggling with inspiration, but I think I've got it back now. I hope this one is good! I plan to put out more soon.

You came out of the diner's bathroom attempting to put your hair up. The weak hand dryers did a good job at drying your clothes, but you still felt a shiver. You glanced at the people seated around you as you looked for your booth with Arthur. You wondered what their stories were.

Arthur was smoking his cigarette with his head down studying the menu. He looked so calm yet chaotic; he was shaking his leg nervously under the table and fidgeting around, but you noticed he made no attempt to hide his behavior. His hair was still damp; the hand dryers did little for him too.

He was thinking about the night as a whole. You had given him a sense of happiness and confidence, and he vowed he had to hold on to you.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of morbidity coming from him. His still soaked clothes seemed to make his figure look even darker. You couldn't tell what it was. Maybe he was just getting more comfortable around you, and stopped trying to hide his anxiety and nervous ticks.

Taking your place in the seat in front of him, you noticed he unforrowed his brow and softened his gaze. His demeanor changed entirely when he saw you, and he even sat up straighter.

"I ordered us some coffee. I figured it would help us warm up a bit."

He shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. Keep it cool, Arthur. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair. He didn't want to appear too nervous in front of you. After all, what did he even have to be ashamed of? You saw the worst he's done, and unknowingly confirmed his actions.

"Thanks. That'll do. I'm still freezing."

"I'll bet. I would offer you my jacket but I think it's still pretty soaked."

He motioned at his jacket, which was hanging on the coat rack, still dripping a bit.

You couldn't help but giggle. The slight action warmed him, and even slightly took his breath away. His eyes glimmered as he watch you.

"I think I'm better off how I am, but I appreciate the gesture."

He smiled and nodded, dropping his head back down to see the menu. He had no need to look over the options - he's been here many times before, but he needed something to focus on so he wouldn't burst out laughing. Not out of awkwardness, but out of bliss.

Waiting for the coffee, you looked out the window of the diner. It was rainy and dark out, and all you could really see was your reflection and the glow of the bright neon signs on the window. You couldn't help but feel another shiver come on.

You returned your gaze to Arthur. His eyes were pacing around the restaurant, studying, seeing, analyzing everything. He anxiously smoked his cigarette. It was almost burnt to the end. A stream of gray smoke rose out of it when he set it on the ash tray.

"S0..." Your voice trailed off when you tried to speak. When he heard your voice, he shot up and sat straighter. His whole demeanor changed. He was now the Arthur you had danced in the rain with earlier. You asked him how he felt about his performance.

He continued to talk, his features getting softer with every word. He started to glow just like the neon signs. Giving you a gentle smile, he looked up as the waitress placed the two cups of coffee on the table.

He studied you as you poured sugar and creamer into the cup. The dark coffee lightened immediately, little clouds of creamer erupting from the bottom. He couldn't help but think there was an analogy for his life in your mug. He reached over and poured a spoonful of sugar into his drink. He preferred his coffee dark and bitter. It helped him wake up.

The conversation went on for a while. You two spoke about basically everything that was going on in your lives. When you made comments about the subway murders, Arthur listened intensely. He was still surprised at how supportive you were of this clown. He began to zone out.

He didn't mean for his actions to start a city wide revolt, much less to gain mass appreciation. He was simply defending himself in the heat of the moment. But the more he thought of it, the more he realized it had a lot more to do with who he was, or rather who he wasn't. If he had been some higher-up, even with his condition, those boys probably wouldn't even bat an eye. But because he was who he was, along with the majority of Gotham's residents including you, he was a vulnerable target.

If anything good came out of that night, it not only brought attention to people like him, but it brought him to you.

You. You. You. He hadn't thought about you falling victim to people like the subway boys. He made a mental note that he would look out for you, even if it meant him pulling a stunt like the one he did before.

You stopped talking when you noticed his smile fade to a frown. You wondered what was going on through his head. His leg continued to shake.

"Arthur," you said gently, watching his face closely.

"Hm?" He looked up from his coffee mug. "Oh, um, sorry. Hah-," he stifled the laughter by clearing his throat "I didn't realize how late it is.We- we've gotta get you home."

He pulled out some loose change, and cursed quietly when he pulled out some crumpled bills.

The two of you walked out of the diner side by side. He pulled over to the side of the entrance, and lit up a cigarette. The light from the match casted shadows on his face. He took a long drag and ran his hand through his hair. You stared at the floor, trying not to make it obvious you were trying to watch him.

The two of you started walking side by side. You noticed his bangs were no longer covering his face like they usually do, but instead, his hair was pushed back. He kept his hands in his pockets as he strode next to you.

"Tonight was nice, Arthur."

He smiled and looked into your eyes.

"Yes, yeah it was. It's been a while since I had a good night out."

He watched you as you walked next to him quietly. He noticed a smile on your face, and he smiled to himself. Maybe things weren't so bad, after all. He met you, and you had been a breath of fresh air in the putrid city.

He wanted you to consume him entirely. He felt a sense of freedom he had never felt before. He imagined you as his light, and he was able to make you laugh. For the first time in a while, things were starting to look normal.

He took another puff from his cigarette, and watched as the smoke dissipated into the night air.


	7. Bloody Mary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just a quick little NSFW warning. This ones based off of Lady Gaga’s song “Bloody Mary” (which I think is a great song for this film btw). Enjoy!

Arthur walked you home, holding on to your coat and his. The two of you walked side by side into the apartment building, laughing and chatting, only taking a break on the elevator.

He walked you to your apartment, stopping in front of your door. You noticed his happy gaze to suddenly start to wind down.

“I had fun tonight Arthur, thanks again.”

You offered him a smile as you started to unlock your apartment door. He felt a fire burning in his chest, similarly to the same sensation he felt when he was about to have an outburst, but when he tried to let it out, no laughter came.

“Yeah” he cleared his throat and shuffled around “m-me too. It was different.”

“I’ve never danced around in the rain, that’s for sure. But there’s a first time for everything, I guess. It’s as fun and liberating as people say.”

He chuckled. Liberating it was, but for him it was more profound. Almost an awakening.

See if she’ll invite you in, Arthur. He had always wanted to see where you live. How you live. Study the items that get to see you every day, every hour, and feel some sort of jealousy he couldn’t be one of them.

Maybe it was just a burst of confidence, or maybe it was the fact he hadn’t taken his pills in a while and was just hallucinating, but his next move wasn’t him. It wasn’t the Arthur who got beat in an alleyway weeks before, or the Arthur who dropped a revolver in a children’s hospital ward. It was a manifestation of Arthur he had always quelled and never released.

He studied you as you watched his hand reached your cheek. The back of his hand brushed your cheekbone lightly, and his fingers danced around your temples, tucking loose pieces of hair behind your ears.

He looked into your eyes, as you looked up at him, both surprised and feeling helpless, in a good way. He cupped your face with his hands, and drew you in for a kiss. This time, you could feel his tongue on yours, and his teeth on your lips. He tasted like cigarettes and coffee.

After what seemed like a minute, he drew away. You could see how much taller he was than you once again. You felt your bottom lip begin to swell a bit from the kiss. He was hungry for more, and it both excited and terrified you.

“I, um,” you stared at your doorknob at a loss for words, and you couldn’t help but giggle quietly “I should get going.”

He wasn’t used to being the one that was put together. But he did admit to himself, it felt good to be able to make someone feel the way you did. He never thought he would be able to.

He lit a cigarette in front of you, the flame from the lighter illuminating his hands. You watched his hands intensely; they looked rough yet delicate enough to feel sensual on your soft skin.

“Right, of course. Have a good night.”

“You too, you too Arthur. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned on his heel and walked down the hall. You watched his gait as he walked side to side, his still wet hair following the movement of his stride. He blew the cigarette smoke over his shoulder as an excuse to see if you were still watching. You were.

——-

You had just gotten out of the shower when you heard a loud slam. You didn’t think twice about it - the walls in your apartment building were obnoxiously thin, and you were always hearing all sorts of weird stuff.

You stood at your bathroom mirror, wrapping yourself up in your robe. You undid your toweled hair, and let it fall past your shoulders. You continued to do your routine, letting your hair air dry.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you cursed yourself for leaving your living room window open. It wasn’t too cold out, but your apartment was freezing. You walked over to the kitchen and raised the a/c.You braced yourself before going to close the window.

“Stop yelling at me...”

“I’m not yelling...”

You stopped in your tracks, hugging your robe so it covered you more. You could hear loud voices through the walls and the open window. You slowly approached the window, trying to hear more.

“Im not talking to you until you calm down...”

The voices were definitely coming from Arthur’s apartment. You assumed he and his mother were fighting. You felt a shiver down your spine. You stood frozen for a moment, tucking your still wet hair behind your ears. You had never heard that much noise coming from his apartment, and you felt kind of worried. You stood by the window for a few minutes until the voices died down. You quickly closed the window, and rushed to the front door to lock it before you went to bed.

Just as you were reaching for the lock, you heard a knock on your door. You quietly looked through the peephole. It was Arthur.

You felt the blood in your body begin to warm, maybe out of fear, maybe out of a surge if excitement. You quickly opened the door, standing before Arthur in your robe and we hair.

You looked up at him, and he stared back at you. He was still in his clothes from earlier.

He stepped into your apartment, grabbing you gently but assertively by the back of your neck. He lowered his head to meet your lips with his, using his other freehand to close your door. He kissed you furiously and passionately, guiding you to step backwards.

He kept his eyes open as he kissed you to steady himself and you. He looked around to see the bedroom.

You walked backwards with your eyes closed as he pushed you back slowly with his hands on your hips. You felt the door frame to your bedroom behind you, until he pushed you into the bed.

You laid there looking up at him, your hair a mess under you. He watched you as you breathed heavily. He stared into your eyes as if asking permission, and you nodded.

He undid your robe, and you felt the cool air on your skin. He ran one of his fingers down the length of your body. He had always imagined how it felt.

You sat up and helped him out of his burgundy outfit. You noticed a scowl on his face as he turned to kiss you. He was angry, but the way he treated you led you to believe it wasn’t towards you. You were right. It wasn’t, but instead towards his mother and how instantaneously his life changed. But you didn’t know that. He would tell you eventually. But he needed a release.

You watched his furrowed brow as he positioned himself on top of you, and lowered himself into you. He sunk his face into the nape of your neck, and felt you wrap around him.

The real Arthur was finally able to break free.


End file.
